


spellbound

by morkhyucks



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Fluff, Humor, M/M, [chanting] WITCH HYUCK WITCH HYUCK, lots of swearing bc they're teenagers, mark and 00 line are the same age, mark is self deprecating and constantly going thru a crisis, mark lee going THRU it, mark lee in glasses, mark lee in love, witch!hyuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-08-22 03:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16589771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morkhyucks/pseuds/morkhyucks
Summary: Mark had always noticed the peculiar boy in school, it’s hard not to when he struts around with flowers weaved in his hair and strange looking crystals hung around his neck, but his fascination with him didn’t start until he quite literally came crashing into Mark’s life.





	1. Pyramid Schemes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the first fic i’ve ever posted and the only reason it was written was bc i realised that we, as a society, don’t have enough witch!hyuck fics
> 
> also special thanks to raisa for being my moral support (and the loml)

Mark’s head felt so heavy, he wondered if it had been replaced with a bowling ball. His head kept falling forward as he constantly fell into momentary unconsciousness. He probably looked rather strange with his incessant head nodding and weird full body spasms but he was too tired to care. He could hear Yerim giggle behind him which he deliberately ignored. 

He pried his eyes open until they stung in hopes of burning the tiredness away but it just made him sleepier.  He squinted his eyes in an attempt to read whatever was on the board but the words remained blurry and unreadable despite him wearing his prescription glasses. He had no clue what his chemistry teacher was babbling on about nor did he really care. He had passed the point of caring long ago.

His teacher was truly terrible at his job. Mark doubted a single person in the class was actually listening because the man was just so _damn_ boring. He had a large pot belly, wore pants that were about 3 sizes too small for him and always had the few first buttons of shirt unbuttoned to show off his grossly hair chest; definitely not a sight Mark enjoyed seeing first thing in the morning. His voice was somehow incredibly monotone and adenoidal at the same time – and to top it off, he constantly sounded like his mouth was full of water (which may sound strange but is entirely true).

It was only his first lesson of the day but he was already prepared to go home. Just the thought of having to go through this in every class for god knows how many more hours made Mark want to cry. He was drained both mentally and physically and fuck it, probably spiritually too. Man, why did school have to suck so bad?

The blank faces and dead eyes of the people around him told him they were thinking the same thing. School really _really_ sucked. Especially at 8:50 am.

He only had to sit through another ten more minutes until the bell rung though. Ten more excruciating minutes.

 _I can do this,_ he told himself.

He gazed out the window to observe the scenery outside. The dark green leaves of a nearby oak tree fell gracefully past the window, the whispers of gentle winds carrying them away. He wanted nothing more than to sit on the grass under a tree as wind blew through his hair and sun shined on his skin. His lungs craved for some fresh air but instead, he was stuck in the confines of a stuffy room that smelt suspiciously like weed.

The main reason he always chose a window seat was to feel less like he was trapped within the four bleak walls of a classroom. At least the only thing between him and the great outdoors was a pane of glass, not a concrete slab coated in an awful shade of beige

The contrast between the dull, barren walls and the vivid, brightly-coloured school garden made the window look like a strange portal to another dimension. Mark imagined he was in an alternate realm where all happiness and vibrancy had been erased (and that realm was called public school).

He had the urge to crack open the window, even just a tiny bit, so he could take in the fresh smell of greenery and the remnants of earlier rain. He knew Yerim would complain about the cold though. _Close that window before I beat your ass,_ she would probably say.

The football team was playing on the field, Mark felt a hint of jealousy bubble in his chest. He’d do almost anything to join them. They looked tiny in the distance and the fact they were so far away from his reach made him even sadder. He could just barely make out their figures but he was almost certain the one that appeared to be shouting orders was Jeno.

To his dismay, only 4 minutes had passed since the last time he glanced at his watch. If Renjun was here, he’d be ranting about some conspiracy theory that the government uses magnets to slow down clocks in schools but thankfully this class was entirely Renjun-less. He could only take so much of the small Chinese boy and he already had an earful this morning when said boy went on a tirade about the existence of lizard people on their way to school.

He did wonder if Renjun’s theory had some truth to it though. The remaining 6 minutes of the lesson were the longest 6 minutes he had ever experienced.

He was restless in his seat, his legs were begging to be stretched. He bounced his leg impatiently but halted as soon as Yerim kicked his chair, urging him to stop. He spun around to glare at her but the dirty look on her face made him change his mind. She was surprisingly terrifying when she was angry – a 5’2 ball of rage with fiery red hair. Mark knew which battles to fight and this was not one of them.  

He turned back around meekly and pretended to pay attention to the whiteboard in front. The numbers and symbols on it meant nothing to him – they might as well have been random scribbles. He was surely going to fail his final if kept this up but that was for the Mark of the future to worry about; present day Mark had little to no concern.

He sighed and slumped further down his seat, his bottom threatened to slide off the chair. He honestly didn’t care if he ended up on the floor. He could probably take a nap while he was down there. The idea sounded better the more he thought of it.

Every second dragged on for an eternity, the ticking of the clock’s hand was driving him insane. He contemplated slamming his head on to his desk – maybe it would knock him out and school would be over by the time he woke up? He knew that was just wishful thinking though.

The throbbing pain in his head that he had all morning had yet to dissipate. He felt like someone (with abnormally large hands) was squeezing his head with a ridiculous amount of force. The room seemed too loud despite the only sounds being his teacher’s droning voice and the scratching of pens against paper.

Mark was on the brink of screaming out in frustration when the deafening sound of the bell rang through the walls. He jumped out of his seat before his teacher could even say _class dismissed._

He would’ve jumped for joy if he wasn’t so tired and didn’t have a brain-splitting headache.

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and practically ran out of the classroom, slamming his hip against someone’s desk on the way out. He couldn’t even be bothered to glance back and utter a sorry nor did he stop to lunge over in pain.

His bag bounced against his back as he sped down the corridors, weaving himself around the hundreds of other students that were making their way to class or loitering around their lockers. He was going so fast, passerbys just looked like shapeless blurs.

He turned around a sharp corner, the rubber soles of his checkerboard Vans skidded against the tiled floor. His breathing was laboured, his lungs struggled to keep up with his increased pace.

He was too engrossed in breathing and making sure his legs didn’t collapse to pay attention to where he was going. He slammed into something – or rather _someone –_ which made him fall backwards onto the ground, landing with a loud smack.

Whoever he ran into was carrying stacks of paper that ended up scattered all across the floor. They let out a pained gasp when they landed in a heap.

“I’m so sorry!” Mark exclaimed, “I wasn’t looking and I-“

The rest of his sentence died in his throat when he looked up at the heap of a person in front of him.

Mark recognised the boy. _Donghyuck_ , he thought. He had seen him around school plenty of times. It was impossible not to notice him considering he had such a …. unique look. Most people stared at him in confusion, some laughed at him behind his back. Mark was neither – he was too busy in his own little bubble to pay much attention to anything if he was being honest.

Saying that, there had been several times Mark caught himself unintentionally staring at the boy. He was pretty and Mark’s wandering eyes seemed to agree

Seeing him up close was a whole other story though.

Donghyuck had flowers weaved into his hair as per usual. They were different every day and today Mark recognised them as little white baby’s breaths; the years and years of watching his mother make arrangements at her florist had taught him a thing or two.

Gold star-shaped sequins were stuck on to his flushed cheeks, dotted around like freckles. They complimented his skin beautifully and glimmered under the light. They were like little constellations in the galaxy that was Donghyuck.

He had an array of crystal necklaces, some with woven string and others with rose gold chains, all interlinked and knotted together. They were stark against his black sweater that looked too big for him. It hanged around his shoulders loosely and the sleeves covered his hands; his fists peeped out like little cat paws.

He was just so.

 **_Pretty_ **.

That was the only word that really came to mind. He had a mysterious aura that could pull you in, make you lost in his presence. He seemed to know too much, but also too little. All knowing, yet completely innocent.

Mark didn’t know if he was the only one that felt that way. He’s never mentioned or discussed it with anyone in case he ended up sounding crazy.

But it’s true. Donghyuck was ethereal and dreamlike, like he wasn’t of this world. He was a celestial beauty that descended from the heavens to grace Mark’s mortal soul and-

“Are you okay?” Donghyuck interrupted Mark’s daydreaming, “You’ve been staring at me for a good 3 minutes now.”

His voice was smooth. High-pitched but not annoying in the slightest. An angelic voice so delicate it seemed translucent. Mark could listen to him speak forever.

“Uh I …. um,” he replied rather dumbly.

His mouth gaped like a fish out of water, trying to find the right words but none of them came to him.

He didn’t even notice Donghyuck had stood up already, the papers he dropped were back in his arms in a neat pile. Mark swore they were still scattered around the floor just a second ago but he dismissed the thought.

“I think you might’ve hit your head.”

He leaned into Mark’s face to take a closer look. To look at what exactly? Mark wasn’t sure. Donghyuck inspected his head carefully like he was scanning for injuries. Mark could feel the other boy’s breath on his lips and his heart skipped a beat.

  
“You’re very tired,” Donghyuck said matter-of-factly.

Most people would probably say _you seem tired_ or _you look tired_ but Donghyuck wasn’t most people.  
  
He placed a hand on Mark’s and it was hot to the touch. Mark gave him a quizzical look, entirely confused. He was just about to open his mouth to question the strange boy when he felt a spark. Not like an electrical spark that made him jump and tense up but rather a jolt of energy that shot through his whole body. It was like the tiredness was physically sucked out of his body. His head lightened and his shoulders loosened up. The ache he had in his head all morning vanished without a trace. He was suddenly wide awake and completely re-energised – he could easily run a marathon if he wanted to.

“You’re welcome,” Donghyuck announced, completely ignoring Mark’s stupefied expression.

He walked away and disappeared into the crowd of students before Mark could even fully process what happened. Mark sat there, stunned into silence, trying to comprehend the situation.  


____  


In traditional high school fashion, everyone in the cafeteria sat in their assigned groups. It was an unspoken rule that no one actually talked about but everyone just _knew._ If you broke the rule, the universe would be flung out of its axis and explode (apparently). Mark thought that was a bit dramatic but it was definitely no exaggeration that all hell would break loose. No one could just saunter in and disrupt the natural order of things; you’d be asking for a death wish to do so. High school was crazy like that.

Now to put things into perspective, Mark’s school was weird. It was smack in the middle of an affluent white neighbourhood and an area most people called Koreatown, with a pretty obvious reasoning behind it, and it drew equal amounts of students from both. You would expect the top of the hierarchy to be the rich kids or maybe the obnoxious jocks but Mark’s school was _weird_ and the cool, popular kids were the smart ones. Mark watched them in disgust as they voluntarily did Calculus homework during their lunch break.

Like most places, the (so-called) jocks practically owned the school at one point. They’d been at the top probably since the school opened a billion years ago but that all changed when someone found out they had a groupchat where they would rate their female classmate’s pictures. It was deemed “inappropriate” and, quoting Jeno, “really fucking sexist” so no one’s liked them since then.

After that happened, at the top of the social hierarchy, there was a vacuum. The result: absolute chaos.

It was impossible to have a functioning high school without a hierarchy. You had to have people at the top and people at the bottom – it sucks but that’s just how it works. So once the popular kids were thrown off their throne, everyone started fighting for the crown. But who was gonna rule?

The theatre kids? Of course not, this wasn’t High School Musical. Although, it was at the point of the year where Mark’s stress levels were on par with Troy Bolton when he sang Scream and dramatically slid down some lockers. The goths? Too sad, too asocial, too much eyeliner. The band kids? Too busy with their trombones or whatever. The potheads? It’d be entertaining but definitely not a good idea. The indie kids? Good taste in music but annoyingly pretentious (“No, Astrid, you’re not better than me just because you own a vinyl player and listen to the Beatles”).

That left them with the smart kids. Those sneaky little bastards slipped in without anyone noticing and now they were basically gods amongst mortals. And the worst part was that all the teachers loved them. It was the best thing to ever happen to the school according to their principle.

In Mark’s opinion, the best thing to ever happen to their school was the day they started serving hashbrowns in the cafeteria or maybe even that one time a girl tried to convince everyone she went to the hospital for a cocaine addiction when she actually went there to get her tonsils removed. Now that was good.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Jaemin asked as he sat down across from Mark, practically throwing his food tray on the table.

“Cocaine.”

“Well, that’s new.”

“Should I be concerned?” Renjun questioned as he took a seat next to Jaemin. He had his lunchbox with him as always – it probably had some weird vegetarian concoction that Mark would never eat in a million years. Renjun always brought his own lunch because according to him the cafeteria food was suspicious looking and everything tasted like Play-Doh; Mark hated to admit that he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Mark doesn’t even leave his house so I don’t think we need to worry about him having a drug addiction,” said Jeno when he bounced on to the seat next to Mark. The wonky seat jiggled and squeaked under the added weight and Mark had to steady himself against the table to avoid falling over.

Jeno shoved his burger into his mouth and took a huge bite. The juices spewed from it and dribbled down his chin. Mark wished he took his phone out quickly enough to take a picture of Renjun’s disgusted face, he looked completely appalled by the scene unfolding in front of him.

The cafeteria burgers were pretty infamous in their school. Everyone called the meat inside Mystery Meat because no one could ever figure what it was made of. Chicken? Beef? Plastic? Human flesh? Nobody knows.

“I don’t understand how you could willingly eat that,” Renjun said with a pained expression on his face. He looked like he was gonna be sick.

“Well unlike you,” Jeno began mid-chew, “I can’t function just by eating leaves.”

Mark could tell Renjun was holding himself back from going on a rant about how vegetarianism wasn’t just about eating leaves and how the livestock industry causes mass deforestation. He knew just from the way Renjun took a deep breath and clenched his fists; Mark prayed he wouldn’t have to witness yet another outburst in the middle of the cafeteria.

The last time it happened their friend group split in two and they didn’t speak to each other for two whole months. Luckily, they rekindled after Renjun finally decided to apologise but Mark’s almost entirely sure he only did it so he could continue using Jaemin’s Netflix account. It was a long and gruelling two months and Mark never wants to experience anything like that ever again. His first few weeks of senior year had been great and he didn’t want anything to ruin it. Well, _great_ was a relative term. His expectations for the year were ridiculously low so maybe _great_ is too strong a word, too optimistic. By great he meant: he hasn’t once had the urge to hide in his locker and pretend to be dead.

“They’re actually not that bad once you get over the weird texture,” Jaemin added.

“See,” Jeno gestured at Jaemin, “even he agrees.”

“Ugh, whatever,” Renjun said in annoyance as he forcefully stabbed an overripe avocado slice with his plastic fork.

They were a strange quartet and Mark knew that. They were the few people that didn’t quite fit into a specific clique so they just ended up making their own. They were like a whole new subgenre that didn’t have a name. Renjun was a vegetarian, marxist, anti-government, conspiracy theorist; Jeno was a football player that was still going through an emo phase in 2018; Jaemin was a sleep deprived, coffee addicted genius; and Mark was a multi-talented, overachieving gold star student that burnt out about a year ago.

But despite all that, they fit together so well (ignoring the fact that they all hated each other for 8 weeks last year).

When Renjun went to an anti-capitalism rally they all happily tagged along despite not knowing what half of it meant (Mark’s pretty sure Jeno was just happy to shout things and wave a placard around) and when Jeno got teased for wearing eyeliner they all wore eyeliner for a month so he’d feel less self-conscious.  

They were an odd bunch but Mark wouldn’t want it any different.

He zoned back into the real world and sat there listening to the others’ conversation.

“Fuck it. I’m dropping out of school and starting a cupcake business. Who wants to join my pyramid scheme?” Jeno exclaimed.

“Do you even know what a pyramid scheme is?” Jaemin scoffed.

“Uh, yeah. It’s scheme, shaped like a pyramid.”

This happened a lot, Mark having no clue what they were talking about. They would jump from conversation to conversation and he would have trouble keeping up. One second they’re debating which was the best Shrek film and the next second they’re talking about how to get a mortgage.

“I love you guys,” Mark blurted out.

“Mark, if this is your way of getting money from me, you’re gonna have to try a little harder,” Jaemin chuckled.

“Shut up. This is serious,” Mark said “You know when you suddenly get an overwhelming feeling of love and it makes you feel warm all over? Yeah, that’s happening now.”

The trio burst into laughter, Jeno practically doubled over as he held his stomach. Jaemin was forcefully slapping Renjun’s arm in utter joy.

“Dude, I know you said you fell over this morning but I didn’t realise it was this bad,” Jeno said after he finally regained himself. He dramatically wiped away the tears brimming in his eyes.

“Oh, fuck you guys. Can’t a guy just say he loves his bros without being taunted?”

“Well if Jaemin said it, I wouldn’t even react but the nicest you’ve ever been to me was that one time you said you didn’t hate me,” Jeno replied jokingly.

It was a known fact that Jaemin was so incredibly loving and clingy to the point that rumours of him dating Mark, Jeno and Renjun managed to surface and spread across the whole school. None of them even bothered to deny the possibility (and no, that wasn’t the only time Mark’s been nice to him, Jeno’s just a lying little shit).

“What’s gotten into you recently? You’re so … chirpy today?” Renjun questioned.

“Yeah, you’ve been singing love songs all day and it’s really weird,” Jaemin added.

He wracked his brain to come up with an excuse but he was having a brain fart and couldn’t seem to form any coherent sentences. What was he supposed to say? _Uh yeah, I’m super happy today because I bumped into a magical boy and now I’m in love._ Or maybe even: _You guys know that boy that always has flowers in hair? Yeah, well, he touched my hand and now I kinda wanna smooch his face?_

“Holy shit!” Jeno gasped, “Do you have a crush on someone?”

Mark let out an audible groan and slipped lower down his seat in an attempt to somehow hide under the table forever. Maybe he could lie there and cry with the dozens of oil marks and the single soggy french fry.

 _Hey God,_ Mark thought, _if you’re listening could you please open up a portal to hell so I can crawl in it._

“Oh my god, Mark has a crush on someone. The day has finally come,” Renjun exclaimed as he raised his arms in the air dramatically.

Jaemin was practically vibrating in his seat from excitement.

“So,” Jaemin leaned over the table in anticipation, “tell us **_all_ ** about them.”

“Boy or girl? Are they in our year? Are they in any of your classes? How cute are they on a scale of one to ten?” Jeno bombarded him with questions.

 _Boy. Yes. No. Around a million,_ Mark answered in his head.

“Actually the most important question is, what’s their name?” Renjun asked.

Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe it was fate. Maybe it was magic. But the person that had been running around in his head all day happened to walk in just as Renjun opened his mouth. Mark swore the whole room lit up as he made his way down the rows and rows of cafeteria tables. Was Mark so in love that he was looking at everything with rose-tinted glasses or was the boy genuinely that beautiful?

He didn’t mean to say it. Of course Mark wasn’t dumb enough to admit to his friends who he had a crush on. They’d never let him live it down and he would be teased relentlessly till the day he died but in the heat of the moment, so awestruck by beauty and completely bewitched, he blurted it out.

“Donghyuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading and don’t hesitate to scream at me if u find any typos/mistakes bc this isn't beta-ed
> 
> also follow me on [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/morkhyucks) and read my social media aus that i never update !!!!!


	2. Save the Bees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i haven't updated this since last year haha !
> 
> but seriously sorry for taking so long, i was going thru some shit but it's all good now
> 
> also i completely forgot comments were a thing so i'm gonna reply to all of them now, thanks for leaving them i really appreciate it!!

“Ah, fuck,” Mark blurted out after he realised what he’d done. 

 _You dumbass_. 

He didn’t know if mentally punching yourself in the gut was a thing but if it was, he was definitely doing it. He pondered every way he could get out of this but his brain didn’t usually fully function before 3 p.m so he didn’t have many options. His gears were turning but it sounded more like a fork in a washing machine than a mind full of bright ideas.

Option one: Run. Just bolt out of his seat, run as fast as his legs could carry him and leave through the door. It was a pretty solid plan except he’d probably look weird and he might trip and embarrasses himself in front of everyone, including Donghyuck. Plus he would have to explain himself later on so it was a temporary solution for a not-so-temporary problem.

Option two: Jump out the window. It’s quick and easy but the cons to this plan were pretty self-explanatory. Yeah, they were on the ground floor and it wouldn’t kill him (maybe a sprained ankle at most) but he didn’t fancy landing in a bush.

Option three: Move to Norway, change his name, live on a farm, marry a nice blonde lady and become a father of two.

“Witch boy!?” Renjun guffawed, “ _The_ Mark Lee has a crush on witch boy of all people. The world is ending.”

“This is the first sign of the apocalypse,” Jaemin said in mock horror. 

And that’s why Mark didn’t want them to know. He and Donghyuck were practically lightyears away and the thought of them even being from the same universe didn’t make sense. They were like cheese and cereal; a microwave and tinfoil. Not compatible and almost certainly destined for disaster. Imagining them in a relationship seemed almost laughable. 

Donghyuck was pretty eccentric but quite popular in his own weird way. Good-looking, talented and ridiculously kind so it was safe to say he was generally well-liked despite his slightly abnormal fashion sense and love for all things witchcraft. But of course, he wasn’t an actual witch. That would be ridiculous. Even Renjun didn’t believe in witches.

Witch boy, as people called him, was so undoubtedly out of Mark’s league that it was kinda sad. Why would anyone that cool spare him (the loser that looked like he’s had 6 minutes of sleep this whole week) a second glance?

Donghyuck was sitting at his usual table on the other side of the cafeteria, right next to a large, almost floor to ceiling window. It let the light shine through and the way it hit his skin gave him an angelic glow. If Mark was a writer he would’ve said _his honey-toned skin glistened beautifully in the sunlight_ but he wasn’t a writer and honey is gross. It’s gooey and sticky and bees are disappearing at an alarming rate. 

His friends, Lucas and Jisung, were sitting with him as usual. The trio was inseparable, practically joined at the hips. They were together more often than not and have apparently been friends since before they could walk. All three of them had a similar weird energy that Mark couldn’t put his finger on and gave up trying to understand. Lucas seemed like a typical “bad boy” at first glance with his leather jacket draped over his shoulders and a fitted black tee that said **2 HOT 4 HEAVEN, 2 COOL 4 HELL** but his personality said otherwise – if you could get awards for making people laugh, Lucas would have thousands. And to top it all off, he was also 6 foot and probably had a 10 pack. Damn him.

Jisung sat across from them. Mark didn’t know much about him besides the fact that he liked dancing and was smart enough to skip a couple years. He had bright orange hair, that happened to be electric blue the day before, and always wore silk robes over his t-shirt and jeans. The one he was wearing that day had two red and white dragons that intertwined together and cascaded down the back, even Mark could admit that it was ridiculously cool.

Mark glanced down at his clothes and grimaced at the sight. His shoes looked like they’d gone through a World War and his jeans were covered in peanut butter stains – he made a PB&J for breakfast and at the time, washing his hands seemed like way too much effort. Luckily, no one was there to judge his poor life choices. His hoodie was even worse though. He and his brother, Johnny, found it went they were looking through the attic and apparently it was their dad’s old college hoodie. The words were faded beyond recognition, the sleeves were frayed and there was a huge hole near the hem. It was ugly and ancient but so _so_ cosy _._  

Donghyuck suddenly burst out in laughter, his whole body shook with glee. Mark couldn’t fight back the smitten look on his face when he did so. He could just about hear his laughter over the hustle and bustle of the cafeteria and it made him feel warm all over. But his smile quickly disappeared when Lucas leaned in to whisper something in Donghyuck’s ear that made the boy get all flustered. Mark felt a familiar yet unwelcome feeling in his gut. He knew it was the little monster that lived in there named Jealousy – not to be confused with its neighbours, Existential Dread and Crippling Self Doubt (they don’t get along very well).

“Stop staring at him you weirdo,” Jaemin snorted. 

“I don’t know if you realise this but you can’t get him to fall in love with you by staring at him creepily from across the room,” Renjun said as he quickly glanced at Donghyuck as well.

 “It’s just a stupid crush. I’ll get over it in a couple days or whatever,” Mark knew that was a complete and utter lie, “Anyway, it’s not like it’d ever happen. Not in this universe at least.”

Mark wholeheartedly believed in the concept of multiple realities and always wondered why he ended up in the shittiest one. There’s a Mark somewhere out there making out with Donghyuck while riding a dinosaur into the sunset and the fact that it wasn’t him seemed a little unfair.

 _I used to listen to dubstep and this is God punishing me for it,_ he thought.

Jeno gasped enthusiastically out of nowhere, that usually meant he’s had a dumb idea that he thought was ingenious. He waved his arms around animatedly, trying to get his point across without words.

“I just had a great idea!” he proclaimed, “I’m so smart, it amazes me sometimes.”

“You’ve said that for the last like two hundred ideas you’ve had and how well did those ones go, hmm?” Renjun questioned sarcastically.

They all knew very well that not a single one of Jeno’s “great” ideas were anywhere close to being decent and he’s proven so time and time again. He was usually blinded by unfounded optimism that rarely worked out in his favour. Bless his heart.

“No, no, listen. This one’s different,” he argued.

He said that every time.

“So I’m on the football team, right?”

It was never good when he started with a rhetorical question.

“But you know who else is on the football team?” he paused for dramatic effect, “Jisung.”

Oh, Mark knew where this was going and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. He hadn’t even heard the plan yet and he already knew it was the worst one Jeno’s ever had.

“No way in hell would I ever let you be my wingman.”

“What?” Jeno seemed genuinely offended, “I’d be an amazing wingman. With my help, you guys will be dating in a week tops.” 

“No offence Jeno but you have the emotional spectrum of a slice of bread. How do you expect to help Mark in the romance department?” Renjun scoffed.

“You can’t say no offence before you say something offensive and expect me to not get offended.”

“Welcome to the real world, buddy.”

That, of course, sparked yet another petty argument for what – the third time that day? Mark lost count. It happened so much that it was basically white noise at that point.

“Listen,” Mark began and the two quickly paused, “I appreciate that you want to help but I don’t want to date him and even if I did, I’d prefer if it happened naturally without you butting in and ruining it.” 

Jeno opened his mouth to answer and the bell rang right on cue.

 

____

 

The train station looked dull and grey. A rubbish bin laid on its side, it’s contents strewn across the ground. A strong gust of wind caused some of the rubbish to fly away on to the other side of the train tracks. Mark watched as a Coca-Cola tin rolled away and clanged against the metal. Old clumps of gum adorned the station floor creating a mismatched polka-dot-like pattern.   

Mark stood behind the yellow line, tipping backwards and forwards on the heels of feet out of boredom.

A passing train sped by – the blaring sound of the train's wheels speeding across the tracks seemed jarring against the eerie silence of the station. He whipped his hands out of his pockets in surprise, a piece of paper flew out and landed beyond the yellow line, merely an inch away from the edge of the platform.

Mark ran to catch it before the bone-chilling winds carried it away, never to be seen again. He caught it in his hand before it flew off the platform, just in the nick of time. He folded it up neatly again and slipped it into the pocket of his pants where he was sure it would be safe.

A burly looking man sat on a bench near Mark. His faded sweatshirt and ripped jeans were stained with paint marks. He held a cigarette between two shaking fingers, his hands were dirty – red and white paint on his knuckles and under his nails. His gaze was fixed in a permanent glare and Mark quickly looked away when they accidentally made eye contact. 

A group of young boys, maybe a few years younger than Mark, made their way down the stairs on the other side of the platform; he heard them before he saw them. They were shouting and pushing each other as they tried (read: tried) to slide down the railing. Their shirt buttons were undone and their ties hanged haphazardly on their necks. Private school, he deduced. The worst breed of teenage boy.

_Ugh, youth._

____

 

Mark sat next to the window as usual, his feet placed on the seat in front of him. He could hear the tiny Renjun he had in the back of his head tutting at him for dirtying it with his shoes. The great thing about imaginary tiny Renjun was that he was easily ignored unlike real-life also tiny but not as tiny Renjun.

Also, he had a lot more to worry about than train cleanliness at the moment. Like his impending doom, for example. 

Feelings were dumb and Mark hated them. Why wasn’t he born a duck? Ducks didn’t have to worry about emotions and relationship and taxes and college applications? Why? Because they’re ducks. 

If he didn’t have feelings he wouldn’t be thinking about how warm Donghyuck’s hands were and how nice it must be to hold them. He wouldn’t be imagining taking him out for picnic dates at the park while the sun shined on their heads. His mind was clouded by thoughts of Donghyuck and the most pathetic thing was that the boy probably didn’t even know his name. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about him? It’s not like he was that great anyway. 

Okay, maybe he had a nice jawline and cheeks so squishy Mark wanted to bite them but so what?

He had a nose that was begging to be smooched and lips that looked pillow-soft. He had nice fluffy hair that Mark had the urge to pat all day. He had legs for days and sauntered everywhere he went. His nose crinkled when he laughed and his smile could light up a whole room. Mark hated to admit it but fuck, he was in love and he didn’t know what to do about it.

His head was leant against the train window – it always looked so peaceful in films but in reality, he was on the road to getting a minor concussion as his head gently smashed against a pane of glass. He only did it in hopes that the pain would distract him from his boy problems.

The sky outside was an intricate harmony of pink and purple hues, they blended with the clouds as if watercolours had painted the horizon. It made the usual bleak terrain outside look much prettier than it actually was. Not that it mattered anyway; everything outside was blurry from the speed of the train.

It was obvious that smashing his head against the window wasn’t going to help so he sat upright again and he realised he needed to devise a plan. He decided to call it How to Get Donghyuck to Notice Me (aka Operation Notice Me Senpai). All he had to do was figure out how exactly he was gonna do that and what step one should be.

Then a bright idea popped into his head.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you’re wondering why mark is so sad and pathetic in this it’s bc this is a self insert fic. i am mark


End file.
